


A Week With Mama B

by loves_books



Series: Mama B [1]
Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team visit BA's Mama for the first time. Face finds it difficult to relate to her because of his childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Week With Mama B

There isn’t a mother alive who is more proud of her son than she is. Her beloved Scooter might have been a handful growing up, might have been thrown out of the army the first time around, might have been caught up in some seriously dodgy business in Mexico – to this day she doesn’t know the details, and honestly doesn’t want to – but once again he’s managed to turn his life around, proving himself to be the man she always knew he was. A brave, strong, resourceful man. A kind-hearted man, for all his gruff appearances – she’s seen him happily entertaining a group of preschoolers, reading them The Gruffalo, complete with all the different voices and sound effects. 

Of course she worries about him, her son the Ranger. She is under no illusions as to the dangers of the job he does, but she also knows her son and his team make a lot of difference in a sometimes horrible world. She believes beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are the best at what they do – of course, Scooter can’t ever tell her much, too many classified missions, weeks out of contact with her, but she’s come to expect that by now.

Never much of a woman to sit around waiting for a man, even if that man is her own son, her life is packed with part time work and volunteering, friends and dinner parties and the occasional date, although no man will ever be able to live up to her Jackson. The love of her life had been killed back when Scooter had just been a little boy, in the wrong place at the wrong time, a gunshot to the heart. Quick and painless, they told her, though she wonders in the dark of the night how that can possibly be true. Surely, no matter how fast, having your heart ripped open would hurt. Hers still hurts now, after all these years.

Her son has been with this new team of his for nearly a year now, and in all that time he’s managed to make only a few brief visits to her tiny home in Chicago, the house where he grew up, the neighbourhood a little rougher around the edges now but still the only place she could ever truly call home. Scooter has told her amazing tales about his team, about the legend that is John ‘Hannibal’ Smith, this remarkable Colonel who managed to convince several Generals to ignore his dishonourable discharge and reinstate him in the Rangers. Some of the things this man has pulled off seem unbelievable to her, though she knows her baby wouldn’t lie to her, not about something as important as his job.

She hears stories about Hannibal’s XO, the man Scooter only ever calls Face, though when she asked, her son told her his real name is Templeton Peck – what on earth was his Mother thinking when she came up with that name, she wonders silently. Scooter describes Face, or Faceman, as some kind of miracle worker, the ultimate requisitions officer, although to be honest he sounds more like part ultimate conman and part ultimate charmer. She’s very curious to meet him, almost more curious than she is about meeting the last member of her son’s team, the ‘crazy fool pilot’ known only by his last name. 

For all that Scooter does nothing but complain about Murdock, shamefully admitting that his first flight with the Captain had left him terrified of flying – of course she tells him it doesn’t matter, that she is still proud of him regardless – she can hear grudging respect in her son’s voice as he describes some of the manoeuvres the other man has pulled off. She senses there is a deep bond between her son and this other man; maybe this Murdock has becoming the younger brother she always wished she could have given her son. 

Long since resigned to only seeing her son occasionally, his frequent phone calls are always a bright spot in her busy life. Midway through cooking her dinner one night – she’s being lazy tonight, a simple microwave curry with a large slice of homemade chocolate cake lined up for dessert – she hears the phone ring unexpectedly, and hurries through to the hall to pick it up. “Hello there?”

“Mama?”

“Well, if it isn’t my big brave son!” Settling her weight into the chair she keeps by the phone for just this occasion, she kicks off her slippers and feels a huge smile split her face. “How are you, baby?”

“Good, Mama. I’m good.” Scooter sounds fine, although the line isn’t as clear as it could be. “You doin’ okay?”

“All the better for hearing you,” she tells her baby boy, ignoring the ‘ping’ from the kitchen as her curry finishes cooking. “Are you back in the country now?”

“Yeah, only just, this afternoon.” The line fades out completely for a moment, and she strains to hear his deep voice. “… favour to ask?”

“A favour, Scooter?”

“Oh Mama, don’t call me that!” She smiles, knowing her son’s protests are only for show; probably the rest of his team are listening over his shoulder. “Wondered if you meant what you said last time, about havin’ the guys come visit?”

“Of course I did!” Every time she speaks to her boy, she tells him he has to bring his team to visit, even if only for a couple of days. “You all want to come stay? When were you thinkin’?”

“Um… Well, the thing is…”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Scooter. What’s the thing?”

A long pause before her son continues, and the line has cleared up enough that she can hear voices in the background. She smiles to think her earlier image is correct, Faceman or Murdock maybe hanging over Scooter’s shoulder. “Wondered if you’d mind if we, maybe, came up now? Like, we’d be there in a coupla days if we drive up? Hannibal’s place got to be fumigated, and we could stay on base, or rent somewhere, but I remembered you said - ”

“Baby, that’s fine!” She cuts her son off, delighted, already planning everything she’ll have to do to get ready for four hungry, tired Army Rangers visiting, fresh from a mission. “Of course that’s fine, in fact, it’s perfect! I finally get to meet this team of yours, after all your stories.” She can’t resist adding, “I’ll have the baby photos waiting as well.”

“No way, Mama!” She can hear the smile in her boy’s voice, hears laughter from whoever is with him. “Don’t you dare!”

“We’ll see, Scooter!” For a moment the line fades out again, and she worries its gone completely this time. “Scooter? You hear me, baby?”

A crackle and a pause, then her son comes back again. “Mama? Bad line, sorry, think I should maybe head off. We’ll be there Thursday, okay? You sure it’s okay?”

“I promise you it’s okay. I’ll look forward to it, son.” She raises her voice slightly, hoping he can still hear her. “I love you, Bosco.”

“Love you too, Mama.” And he’s gone. She sits for a moment, phone still in her hand, wafts of microwaved curry drifting through from the kitchen, a warm glow in her heart. Two days and she gets to see her baby boy again, for the first time in nearly three months, and this time she gets to see his whole team as well, these men who are his new friends, his new army family. And she can’t wait.

* * * * *

She watches from the window as the sleek black van pulls up at her curb, shaking her head fondly. Stands to reason her Scooter would manage to get himself yet another ‘baby’; always the same type of van, always the same paint job, always the same over-protective attitude towards it, ever since he was first old enough to get his own vehicle. Her son the mechanic, with a big soft heart, in love with each and every one of his vans, always reluctant to let anyone else drive them. Sure enough, she spies the familiar figure of her boy behind the wheel, gesturing over his shoulder at someone in the rear seat as he guides his baby to a complete stop.

She’s seen photos of course, but she’s more than curious to see her son’s team in the flesh, so she keeps watching as they start to climb out, stretching after their long drive north. The long, lean figure of Hannibal Smith climbs out from the passenger side first, stretching his arms high above his head as he surveys the neighbourhood, keen eyes taking in the street and the house. Goodness, but he’s tall, taller than she had imagined, silver hair shining in the sunlight as he turns to pull open the back door of the van. The Colonel might be older than the rest of his team, but she can see he is all muscle, all power, his air of command obvious even to her as she observes quietly. This is a man who is used to being master of all he sees.

For a moment, the Colonel’s tall body blocks her view of whoever was sitting behind him, but then a blur of motion explodes out of the van and starts bouncing up and down on the sidewalk, hanging off Hannibal’s shoulders for a second before tearing free and doing a quick couple of laps around the van, throwing curious glances up at her house. Even from behind her double glazing, she can hear his voice, raised in excitement, and laughs out loud at Murdock’s antics. Looks like Scooter hadn’t been exaggerating when he told her about the pilot’s crazy behaviour, and she finds herself looking forward even more to spending some time in Murdock’s company –it’s been too long since she had that much energy herself, though the pilot is far too skinny in her eyes. She’ll have to feed him up while they are all here.

Murdock’s laps are stopped abruptly when her Scooter throws his door open wide, the pilot running straight into it in a cartoonish manner. Before she can begin to worry, he is up again, bouncing at her son’s heels as her boy stretches briefly, those impressive arms of his flexing, the tattoo she knows he is so very proud of on display. Scooter tries to look annoyed at his team mate’s behaviour, but she knows him too well, can see the smile he is trying to hide as he thumps his fist against the still-closed fourth door, starting to move towards her front gate with Murdock now hanging off his belt, swatting distractedly at his friend.

She watches, intrigued, as the last door finally opens, and another tall figure emerges into the daylight, reaching up to pull dark sunglasses from his eyes, leaning back against the van slightly as he looks around the area, much like Hannibal did. But where the Colonel seemed nothing but confident, that isn’t how she sees Templeton Peck. Wearing what are clearly designer jeans, jeans which hug his long, long legs perfectly – she may be old enough to be his mother but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the view – Templeton Peck seems a little less comfortable, folding his arms tightly across his chest as the Colonel walks around to his side. 

Of course she can’t hear what the two men are talking about, but she doesn’t miss the way Hannibal drapes his arm across his XO’s shoulder, tugging him gently away from the van as he slides the door shut. For a moment she feels bad – maybe Face had other plans for his leave, maybe some girlfriend waiting back near their base – but something in the way the younger man leans into the Colonel’s embrace makes her pause. Interesting.

She’s pulled from her observation by a knock at her door, and she hurries quickly through to the hall, pausing to check her hair in the mirror – she knows her appearance doesn’t really matter to the men, but she still wants to make a good first impression. Through the glass she can see the bulk that is her boy, the shadowy wild-haired figure of Murdock still bouncing by his side, and with glee she throws the door open to greet her guests.

“Mama!” Scooter immediately scoops her up into his arms, and she feels every bone in her body relax as it always does, held securely in his strength. Her son is safe. Her son has come home to her again. She wraps her own arms as far around his muscular body as she can, marvelling once more at how her little boy is now so much taller than she is. He takes after his father, certainly, not her side of the family. Tiny, the lot of them.

“Oh baby,” she breathes into his chest, letting her eyes close for just a moment before she pulls back, holding tight to his waist as she looks him up and down. “You all in one piece? You okay?”

“I’m okay, Mama.” He leans down and kisses her forehead briefly. Far too briefly: she reaches up to cup his face and pulls him down to her, planting a long kiss on each cheek, knowing he will be burning with embarrassment in front of his team. “Missed you, Mama.”

“You too, baby.” With a huge smile she lets him pull back and away, all too aware of the buzzing presence by his side. Turning to Scooter’s teammate, she sees Murdock properly for the first time. “And who have we here?”

“Murdock, Ma’am!” Southern accent, not what she’d imagined for some reason. Wild eyes and even wilder hair, but the widest grin in place. “It’s so nice to meet you! The big guy here has told us so much about you!” The last statement is punctuated by an elbow to Scooter’s ribs, and her son clearly has to restrain himself from hitting back.

“Well it’s nice to meet you too, Murdock. And you must call me Mama, okay?” The hyperactive pilot is hopping from foot to foot and she can’t help but smile as she reaches out to pull him into a hug. Skinny he might be, but she can feel the strength in his stringy body as he locks his arms around her for a second before bouncing away, giggling a little.

Her Scooter tugs Murdock to one side, letting her step out of the house a little and towards the other half of his team. Colonel and Lieutenant are standing separately now, both fine specimens of men if she does say so, and the older man steps forwards first, hand outstretched. “Hannibal Smith, Ma’am. Thank you so much for having us as such short notice.”

The command tone in his warm voice is even more impressive in person – they’ve spoken briefly on the phone a few times, first when Scooter became a part of his team, more recently as his team drove across country – and she takes his hand only to pull him into a brief hug. He’s a good foot or so taller than she is, and, much like Murdock, she can feel the contained strength in his embrace. “Same rules for you too, Mister Colonel Hannibal Smith. Mama, okay?” 

“Okay, Mama!” Behind her she can hear Scooter and Murdock laughing at their Colonel, but she ignores them to turn her attention to the last member of the team.

If she hadn’t seen him hesitate when he climbed down from the van, if she hadn’t seen Hannibal drape a supportive arm around his broad shoulders, she would never have known anything was wrong. Face is all confidence, huge white smile in place, startling blue eyes twinkling at her as he moves straight in for the anticipated hug, and she finds herself swallowed up in strong arms. “It’s great to finally meet you,” he says, stepping back after a moment. “I’d say I could see where BA gets his good looks from, but I think your son might just hit me for that!”

Oh, yes. This one’s a charmer alright. She can’t help but laugh softly as she replies, “I hope I look better in a dress than my Scooter, but I don’t want to know what you boys get up to in your own time!” Clearly startled by her reply, the young man hesitates a second before breaking out that huge smile again, and she continues, “Now what do I call you, son? You prefer Face, or Templeton?”

“Oh…” He seems stuck for a moment, blue eyes clouding with an unreadable emotion, and she wonders what she said wrong, but then Hannibal slips a hand onto his shoulder and the cloud is gone. “Just Face is fine, Ma’am.” And before she can correct him, tell him she’s ‘Mama’ to him as well, he turns to his colonel. “I’ll go grab the bags, Boss.”

“Sure thing, kid.” Hannibal offers her his arm as Face disappears back down to the van, and she bobs a curtsey in response to his bow. “Shall we, Mama?”

Her son has already taken Murdock inside – she can hear excited yelps from her front room, mingled with Scooter’s deeper voice – and she can’t help but smile, shaking her head a little as she and Hannibal follow them in. This could be a very interesting week indeed. 

* * * * *

It had been late in the day when her son and his team arrived and, as she expected, they were all exhausted from both their recent mission and their long drive across country – she had to struggle not to laugh at the way all the men teased her son gently about refusing to fly. She’d had a big pot of chilli waiting for them and, after several large helpings each, the younger men retired to sleep off their adventures, leaving her with a yawning Hannibal.

“You don’t have to do that,” she chides the Colonel as he carries plates from the table to her sink. “You get off to bed now as well. There’s time for this tomorrow. Time for everything tomorrow.”

But Hannibal just passes her the last plate before settling back at the table with his coffee, watching her as she potters around. She won’t wash up tonight but she hates leaving too much of a mess for the morning. “Thank you again for letting us visit. Bosco’s been trying to get us up here for some time, but - ”

“Oh, I know by now how rarely you Army boys get leave, and how precious it is when you do get some.” Finishing wiping the side down, she sits back opposite him. “I’m glad you all finally made it here, and I’m gonna spoil you all while I’ve got you.”

The Colonel smiles at her, his icy blue eyes sparkling with life despite his obvious tiredness. It’s hard to pin down his age, she thinks – that silver hair is deceptive, and the weathered lines on his face are clearly down to his outdoors lifestyle – but if she had to guess, she thinks he’s probably five or ten years younger than herself. “That was certainly the best chilli I’ve had in a long time.” She nods, pleased at the compliment. “No secret sauce.” She raises an eyebrow in question, and he laughs softly. “Murdock tends to get creative when he cooks. Don’t ask!”

“I won’t!” The pilot is certainly an interesting character. She’s already gathered that it’s his fault Hannibal’s house needs fumigating, though no one offered details. She thinks maybe, with Murdock, not asking for details might be the safest plan. “Does he always have so much energy?”

Apart from Murdock, conversation over dinner had been mostly quiet, and she could see the men were gradually winding down. Scooter asked her about her work, and about his aunts and cousins, and she let herself just be glad he was home, answering his questions and filling his plate whenever it started to look a little empty. The pilot had kept babbling away, chiming in with far too many questions of his own, while Face just seemed to be taking everything in, huge smile still in place but noticeably quieter than his teammates. 

Hannibal had just watched his three boys with an indulgent smile, laying a calming hand on Murdock’s arm when the pilot got too excited, keeping an eye on his lieutenant, sharing a knowing smile with her across the table when the banter between the younger men got a little rowdy. She sensed then that this was a man who loved his team very much, even if he never said it aloud. 

“Murdock is…” Hannibal pauses, tilting his head to one side. “Unique, I guess. Hard to describe him. The man’s a genius, and the things he can do with a plane, you wouldn’t believe. He’s unpredictable at the best of times, which is half the fun. But he’s the perfect fit with the rest of us – we’re none of us standard Army men.”

She can hear the honest pride in his voice as he speaks about his pilot, can see the memories flitting behind his sharp eyes. She knows he is tired but can’t resist asking more about his team. “And what about Face? Is he always that quiet? If I’m honest, I got the impression from my son that he and Murdock were as bad as each other.”

A different kind of smile passes over the Colonel’s face, and she wonders again about the relationship he shares with Face. The two men are clearly close, anyone could see that – she knows from Scooter that they have been working together for several years already – but she hasn’t quite yet pinned it down. It hadn’t struck her quite as a Father/Son relationship, but maybe she is still reading too much into that half-embrace out front when they arrived. 

“Face is unique as well. He’ll relax; just give him a little time, Mama.” Hannibal’s voice is warm and deep, but he doesn’t elaborate, leaving her to wonder for a while longer.

She smiles back at him, shaking her head slowly. “You all certainly make an interesting team. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all a little, and spending some time with my Scooter of course.” Seeing how her son acts with his team around will be very interesting, though she can already see just how close all four men are.

“They’re good boys, all of them. Your son is doing so well, honestly, Mama. You should be very proud of him; I am.” That’s good to hear, and she is about to ask more when Hannibal tries to stifle a huge yawn. 

“That’s enough, Hannibal, off to bed with you.” Leaning over, she lifts the mostly empty mug from the colonel’s big hands, smiling at him as he nods in defeat.

“Long drive,” he says as he stands, stretching once again to his full, impressive height. “Entertaining, though, with those three for company. Honestly, it felt like babysitting at times!”

She laughs out loud at that, easily able to picture it. “We’ll share the babysitting duties while you’re here, I promise!” As Hannibal nods again, that easy smile back in place, she asks one last time, “You’re sure you’re okay with the sleeping arrangements?”

She feels bad that she doesn’t have enough rooms for them, her tiny house only having three bedrooms, but the men assured her they’ve slept in far worse situations that these – she’s sure that’s true, but again she really doesn’t think she want the details. Murdock gleefully jumped at the thought of sleeping on the inflatable mattress in her Scooter’s room – her son seemed less gleeful at the prospect – while Hannibal and Face seem more than happy to share the double bed in her guest room, despite her offer of making up the sofa for one of them. 

“Honestly, we’ll be fine, Mama. But thank you.” He offers a half-hearted little salute, ruined by another yawn. “Bed, I think. Sleep well.”

“Pleasant dreams, Hannibal.” She sits a while longer, just thinking, listening as he climbs the stairs and uses the bathroom, before going into the room where Face is most probably already asleep. Her old house has thin walls, and sadly offers little in the way of privacy. Made it easier to keep an eye on her Scooter when he was a teenager at least – difficult for him to sneak out at night, not that he ever tried. He was a good boy, really.

Shaking herself, she checks the locks on the doors and makes sure she turned the oven off, finally ready to head up the stairs and to bed herself. For the longest time after the younger men went up she heard giggles and laughter from Scooter’s room, and found herself wondering if maybe the pilot shouldn’t have had the sofa bed. Did the man’s energy never run out? But now, as she pauses to listen at their door briefly, there is only the sound of snoring, Murdock’s higher whiffles in contrast to her son’s deep bass snores. 

She hears murmured voices from the guest room – seems Face was still awake after all – but soon the house falls silent, and she quietly readies herself for bed, wondering what the rest of the week will bring.

* * * * *

“Nessun Dorma! Nessun Dorma!” 

As she finishes her latest batch of pancakes, she wonders with a quiet laugh if Murdock realises how appropriate his song is at this time of the morning. She has to admit that the Captain has a more than acceptable singing voice, and he’s clearly as happy singing opera as he is pop, but her walls really are awfully thin and the other men haven’t stirred yet.

Although, as Murdock switches effortlessly to the latest Rihanna song, she has to think that maybe they wake up to this every morning. 

“What can I do next, Mama B?” She startles a little to suddenly find the pilot at her side, bouncing on the balls of his feet. She’d been surprised but pleased when he had come bounding down the stairs earlier, amazed again by his energy, and he’d thrown himself into the role of kitchen helper, keeping her entertained with a constant stream of songs and voices and characters as he did last night’s dishes. “Can I help cook?”

“Why don’t you set the table for me, honey?” Hannibal’s comments about ‘creative cooking’ are ringing in her head, and she thinks maybe better safe than sorry for breakfast. Besides, she’d already planned a feast for her guests. “Maybe the rest of your team will be up soon. I know my Scooter doesn’t sleep in long while he’s here.”

Murdock sniggers a little, and she knows it’s the use of her son’s nickname. Still, she can’t break the habit, even if does cause his teammates to tease him a little. “Yeah, he and Hannibal might be up soon, but Facey isn’t much of a morning person. Bossman might drag him out of bed though, especially when he smells these amazing pancakes! And the bacon and the eggs and - ”

“Here you go, son!” She cuts him off as his voice starts to get louder, handing him some maple syrup and a pepper grinder, the first things she laid her hands on. He juggles them comically for a moment before spinning on the spot and all but dancing to the table. She’d thought that the washing up would have taken him longer than it did – she’s pleased that her work volunteering at the children’s home has given her experience coming up with distracting activities. “Why don’t you tell me a little about you? You’re the best pilot in the Army, from what I hear.”

“I know my way around a plane, Mama.” His southern accent, what she assumes is his natural accent, gets a little stronger as he continues, a hint of pride in his voice. “And a helicopter, and a glider, and a biplane, and pretty much anythin’ else that flies. It’s all I ever wanted to do, growin’ up. And I get to do it near ‘nough all the time.”

“You’re very lucky.”

“Lucky don’t even begin to cover it.” From the corner of her eye she watches as he pauses for a moment, hands frozen in mid-air as he sets out the cutlery. As she turns to see if he is alright, Murdock seems to shake himself a little. “Bein’ with Hannibal and Facey and BA – I mean, Scooter – it’s the best thing that ever happened to me since I left my Grandparents’ ranch. Hannibal’s just, wow, I mean… He’s the Boss, y’know? He know’s what’s what, and what to do about it.”

Leaning against her kitchen counter with one hip, she can almost see the mixed emotions playing over the pilot’s face as he slowly carries on setting the table. She files away the mention of his grandparents for future reference. “He seems like a good man,” she says softly.

“He’s the best. And Bosco too. I mean, you should see the things your son can do with a machine!” Energy peaking again, Murdock starts to switch all the cutlery around, knives moving to the left side instead of the right, and forks being turned the wrong way up. “I think I annoy him sometimes, but he never stays mad long. He’s my friend.”

“I’m glad, Murdock.” She turns back to her cooking as she asks, “Are you and Face friends as well?”

“Face is my best friend.” The note of absolute certainty in his voice makes her smile. “Not that BA isn’t my best friend too, but it’s just that Face gets me. He just gets me, and nothin’ bothers him. I know he wasn’t himself yesterday, but you’ll see he’s just the coolest guy.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, heavy footsteps that can only belong to her son. Removing the plates from the oven where she’s been warming them, she nearly drops them when he wraps his big arms around her waist, leaning around to plant a warm kiss on her cheek. “Mornin’, Mama.”

“Good morning, baby!” She starts serving up two loaded plates, smiling, listening to the easy banter behind her as the two men settle at the table. Banter that fades into happy silence as they both tuck eagerly into their food, and she starts to wonder if she’s made enough. Judging by the speed with which it all vanishes, she’s doubtful, especially when she finally hears another two sets of footsteps on the stairs.

Reloading Murdock and Bosco’s plates, she bids the second half of the team a good morning as she fetches another two warm plates. Hannibal looks more than ready for action although Face, just as Murdock had said, doesn’t seem to be much of a morning person, a little bleary-eyed and just as quiet as he was last night. He sits next to Hannibal rather than at the end of the table where Murdock had laid a place, subtly dragging the cutlery across.

With their plates all full for now, mugs filled with strong coffee, she finally settles at the table herself, a simple plate of eggs and toast all she wants for breakfast. “This is fantastic, Mama,” her Scooter mumbles enthusiastically, mouth full of bacon, and she laughs when Murdock pokes him from across the table.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Scooter!”

Her son swallows hard before retorting, “Don’t you call me that, crazy! Or I’ll come up with some creative new names for you!”

“Boys.” Hannibal doesn’t need to add anything else, the warning clear from his tone, though Face tries and fails to cover his smile with a faked cough. She tries to catch the younger man’s gaze to smile back, though bright blue eyes meet hers for only a second before he blinks and looks back down to his plate.

Maybe it’s time to change the subject already. “So, how did you all sleep? Room sharing okay?” 

“Slept like a log, thanks, Mama,” Scooter starts. “Don’t think a grenade going off would’ve woken me.”

“Forget the grenade, your snoring didn’t even wake me!” Murdock throws at him with a wide grin. “Best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages! How about you two? Facey?”

“We slept really well, thanks.” Something seems to switch inside the lieutenant, and suddenly he is all smiles, leaning back in his chair as he glances sideways at Hannibal. “Bed was more than big enough, right, Boss?”

“Right, kid.” Hannibal’s smile is warm as he bumps shoulders with the younger man before turning that smile towards her. “And this breakfast is really fabulous, Mama. Bosco wasn’t kidding when he said you were quite the chef.”

“It’ll be something a whole lot simpler tonight, I’m afraid,” she says, pleased with the compliment. “I have to go into work for a couple of hours this afternoon, but I managed to get a few days off after today. Figured you all wouldn’t mind a quiet day after your mission and that long drive.”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Murdock is bouncing is his chair, hand held comically up in the air, waiting for attention. “Can I cook tonight? I’m a good cook, honest! I’d love to cook for you, Mama!”

“No special sauce, you fool! You ain’t gonna use that stuff if you’re cooking for my Mother!” Before she can object – she is meant to be spoiling them, after all – Scooter laughs loudly, with both Hannibal and Face joining in after a moment. “Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll take him to the shops, make sure he cooks something sensible.”

“I’m wounded, Bosco! Wounded!” Murdock makes a show of clutching his chest in mock pain before bouncing to his feet, passing around the back of her chair to where her son sits. He drapes himself around Scooter’s shoulders and leans close to speak into his ear, though his words – now with a distinct British accent – are loud enough to carry to the whole table. “You think I would hurt your wonderful Mother? Sensible, you say, my man? I’ll show you sensible…”

“Murdock, buddy!” Giving up on getting a word in edgeways, content and amused to watch her son and his team bounce off each other, she watches as Face sits forward again. She smiles to see that, at some point, Hannibal has draped an arm across his shoulders, and the handsome young man seems a little more at ease. “Go easy, man. It’s too early to get too excited about being ‘sensible’ or not.”

The pilot responds instantly to his friend, peeling himself off a very relieved Scooter and shuffling back to his chair. “Sorry, Mama,” he mumbles, but before she can reassure him he picks himself right up. “I can be sensible, honest. Sometimes!”

“I’m sure you can, baby!” This time Face holds her gaze when she looks over at him, flashing her that mega-watt grin of his as she continues. “Dinner would be lovely, but don’t you all go to no trouble for me, okay? You’re here to rest and let me look after you. That’s Mama’s job.”

A chorus of ‘yes, Mama’ from three of the four men at her table – she can’t miss Face’s simple nod, still watching him as she is – and there is silence for a second before the younger men start talking over each other again, Hannibal smiling indulgently, arm still resting over his Lieutenant’s shoulder, rolling a cigar between his fingers. 

As their easy conversation washes over her and around her, she feels she is beginning to understand just how well this team works, how her son fits into the unit. Face seems more animated talking with his friends, and she wonders again what plans this sudden visit to Chicago has disrupted for the handsome Ranger, and how she can make him feel more comfortable. Tonight, she decides, after work she’s going to try to talk to him a little more. She’s seen flashes of the charmer she expected to meet, but her instincts tell her there is much more to this young man than she has seen so far. 

* * * * *

“Hey, kid. What are you doing out here?”

“Thought I’d get some fresh air, boss.” Hannibal and Face’s words drift through the open window to her clearly as she stands making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, and she shakes her head a little, frowning as she remembers how quickly the younger man had left her once they were by themselves. And the evening had been going so well. 

Sitting in her living room with Scooter and Hannibal, listening to the laughter from the kitchen as Face and Murdock washed up, she thought that she could really get used to having her son and his team around. When she’d arrived back from work that evening, the wonderful smells of cooking filling her house had been more than welcome, though Hannibal had intercepted her in the hallway and suggested that, maybe, she shouldn’t go into the kitchen just yet. Laughing him off, she had gone on in anyway and nearly died to see how much mess Murdock had created, though the pilot assured her he would clean up afterwards.

Dinner had been more than worth the mess, though, and after a good night’s sleep plus a quiet day, the team had been even more animated than previously. Murdock’s energy was truly limitless, and Scooter’s gruff attitude towards his friend didn’t fool her at all – she saw the laughter he tried to hide as the pilot bounced from character to character over dinner, keeping them all entertained. 

“You okay, Face?” She can hear the concern in Hannibal’s voice, can imagine him slipping an arm around the younger man’s shoulders as he has done so often this evening. She’s glad for Face’s sake that Hannibal at least has spotted something is wrong, and isn’t afraid to say something.

“Yeah, I guess. I just…” Face’s voice is quiet, doesn’t carry as well as his Colonel’s, and she knows she should leave. Nothing good ever comes from eavesdropping. But as Face continues, she can’t pull herself away. “She’s so lovely, and everything’s so lovely, and I feel bad that I can’t relax. I don’t know why I’m so on edge.”

‘On edge’ is one way to put it. She’s tried hard not to take it personally, but Face has resisted all her efforts to get to know him, actually flinching away from her when she dared to squeeze his shoulder in passing. In the company of his team he’s cheerful enough, and he’s certainly been nothing but polite to her, all smiles and the model gentleman. He laughed as hard as Murdock and Hannibal when she pulled out Scooter’s baby photos – she’d forgotten just how cute her son was when he blushed that hard – and, even though he hadn’t joined in when the others told her a little about their own pasts, she’d thought he was beginning to relax. 

But, as soon as Murdock and Scooter went out to get more cheesecake – the two she had made for the team didn’t last as long as she thought – and Hannibal slipped out to the garden for a cigar, Face had only lasted a couple of minutes with her before making his excuses and fleeing after his colonel.

“Stop worrying so much, Face.” A pause, and she pictures the older man taking a long drag from his cigar. “You don’t need to try so hard. It’s BA’s mother, not the Spanish Inquisition.”

“I know, but I don’t know how to just be myself. I mean, you know my standard approaches to meeting new women…”

“You can’t flirt with BA’s Mama, kid. Somehow I expect Bosco would beat you to a pulp if you tried.” A note of humour in that commanding voice and yes, she can picture her son’s reaction all too well. Scooter’s always been a little overprotective of her. “What’s bothering you so much?”

A longer pause, and she knows there is no way she can leave now. What has she been doing wrong? Where would the younger man rather be right now? In the back of her mind she still expects he had plans with some girl back near their base, but Face’s quiet words take her completely by surprise. “It shouldn’t bother me. All the little touches, all the care she’s taken. Checking if we need extra blankets, remembering how I take my coffee, always asking if we’re hungry or thirsty. Showing so much interest in all of us – I mean, I just expected she would want to be with Bosco all the time, she’s his Mom. But it’s like - ” 

“Like she’s mothering us all? Mothering you?”

A very quiet, “Yeah.”

The two men fall silent, and she leans heavily on the counter. She has been doing all Face said and more, without even thinking about it. That’s just how she is, as natural as breathing. These men are Scooter’s ‘family’, so by extension they are her family too. Her boys. It never occurred to her that, just maybe, they wouldn’t want to be taken care of while they visited.

“Temp.” Hannibal’s words are so quiet she has to strain to hear them. “I never even thought… I know you’ve never had that, never had a family, never known a Mother’s care, but it doesn’t matter. I keep telling you that.” 

Never had a family? An orphan perhaps, she wonders, heart breaking a little for the handsome young officer. Why hadn’t her Scooter told her? But then immediately she shrugs off that thought – it isn’t any of her business, and she knows that most guys don’t talk about things like this. Not the things that matter. 

Thankfully the Colonel seems different, and she dares to move a little closer to the window as he continues. “You’ve grown into a wonderful, generous, brave, loving man without knowing your Mother. I’m so proud of you, kid.” It’s dark outside and for a moment she can’t quite make out the two men. Her eye is caught by the glow of Hannibal’s cigar, and it takes her a second to realise what she is seeing, a wide smile splitting her face as she finally puts the pieces together. It seems so obvious to her now, and it makes perfect sense.

Hannibal has his arms around Face, the younger man held close against his chest. Every mother’s instinct she has tells her this is more than friendly comfort, and sure enough, a second later the colonel pulls back a fraction, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lieutenant’s lips. After another moment they break apart a little, Face rubbing at his eyes, Hannibal’s arms loose around his waist now.

“Thanks, John. I know I’m being stupid…”

“Not at all.” She ducks back from the window again as they turn towards the house. “You can’t help how you feel, Temp. But she’s a Mother, Bosco’s mother, and I for one am enjoying having someone else take care of you boys for a time. And I think she’s really enjoying fussing over us.” She is indeed, and now she knows a little more about this complicated teammate of her sons, she starts to revise some of the tentative plans she has made for the rest of the boys’ visit. She had planned to pamper the men as much as they would let her, but clearly Face will need some special attention, and careful handling.

She knows without a doubt the handsome young man wouldn’t want sympathy. But she can’t help feeling sorry for Templeton Peck, not knowing how to accept her Motherly attention purely because he’s never had any in his young life. She burns with curiosity about his childhood – a children’s home? foster care? – but all her questions about his life will stop now. If he wants to tell her anything about his past then he can do it in his own time. But that won’t stop her fussing over him while they are all in her home.

She doesn’t think she could stop even if she wanted to. Murdock, she knows, is loving her attention, and she has to admit she’s loving having the crazy pilot around, especially when she sees him with Scooter. Hannibal is obviously older than the three boys but she knows, even without hearing his words earlier, that the colonel needs a break from looking after his three handfuls. The colonel needs a mother’s touch, and she’s more than happy to give it. He’s her boy too. 

Scooter, of course, for all his supposed embarrassment at her behaviour, is still her little boy. She might ease off on the baby photos, but she’ll shower him with love and attention while she has him. As for Face, at least she knows now it isn’t personal, nothing she’s done wrong. Just things she’s done without thinking that he wasn’t ready for. So she’ll just have to be a little more creative – he is one of her sons now, and she’ll mother him as much as he will let her. 

And clearly she’ll have to work out a way to give Hannibal and Face some proper time alone together while they are with her, sooner rather than later. 

* * * * *

The next few days pass in a happy blur of activity and laughter, and she tries hard not to think about the day when her son and his team will have to leave her and return to their dangerous jobs. Her tiny house hasn’t been this busy for years, not since Scooter was a young boy and used to have his gang of friends running in and out all day long. The team have done all the obvious tourist attractions, from the planetarium and the museums to Navy Pier, as well as the Magnificent Mile – she couldn’t hold in her laughter at the sight of Hannibal loaded with heavy shopping bags, Face having indulged his designer tastes while he was able to.

Most of the time it has been all four of them, the team clearly enjoying spending their down time together. Scooter has obviously loved taking them around his old home city, while she has been invited along almost everywhere and has happily accompanied them where and when she could – sadly, some days she has had to go in to work, and some of her volunteer work she hasn’t wanted to stop. The boys are all more than capable of amusing themselves after all.

But she has also had ample time to see them in smaller groups, two or three at a time, and it amuses her how differently they act with each other, different yet still the same. Scooter and Murdock together are a bizarre double act, the pilot acting up and her son acting as if it bothers him, while Scooter and Face together are far calmer, each a grounding influence on the other, each clearly respecting the other. Murdock and Face, on the other hand… They bounce off each other in the most impossible ways, Face obviously understanding his friend’s more insane ideas and happy to go along with them, although she also sees how the lieutenant manages to rein his friend in a little, never letting things get too out of hand. 

Hannibal with any two or all three of his boys is always the strict but indulgent colonel, but on his own with Murdock or Scooter, he seems more carefree, more on an equal footing with the younger men, while with Face he is, to her knowing eyes, the attentive partner. Now she knows about their relationship, she can’t imagine why she didn’t see it sooner, but her heart aches a little to see the care they are clearly used to taking to conceal their feelings for each other. Of course, if either of them were outed at work it would be the end of their careers, and when she thinks about that she has to find something to take out her anger on. Baking usually calms her nicely, and none of the team have complained about the amount of cakes she has been providing. 

“What you thinkin’ about, Mama?” Her son’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, and she turns slightly on the sofa to look at him. He has a plate balanced on his knee, a large slice of chocolate chilli cake half eaten, and he is watching her with a small smile on his face. Her handsome boy.

She smiles back, full of love and pride. “Just thinkin’ about my brave son. And this crazy team of his.”

“Crazy’s the right word.” Scooter laughs a little, taking another bite of cake, attention drifting back to the television. It’s just the two of them tonight, like old times, eating and talking a little, just being together. Hannibal has taken Face and Murdock to some Jazz club he’s heard about, giving her some precious time alone with her boy. “Mad, the whole lot of ‘em. Don’t know what it says about me that I fit in so well!”

“Just says you’re in the right place right now, baby.” And maybe that her son’s a little crazy too, but that’s just fine by her. Normal is overrated. “You’re really happy with them? This is really working out for you this time?”

“Yeah, Mama.” Scooter’s voice is softer now, and he puts his fork down, focus drifting somewhere internal for a moment. She watches him, sees the little boy he was in the way that tiny frown appears when he concentrates. “Yeah, I’m happy. And this is where I’m meant to be, with the Colonel and them other two crazy fools.” He won’t offer details. He knows she doesn’t want to know about the missions they have been on, the rare ones he is able to talk about. She isn’t asking about the times he’s been shot at, the times they’ve saved each other’s lives. She just wants to know he’s okay. His dark eyes seem to focus again, and he looks at her curiously. “What do you make of them, Mama? Are they like you imagined?”

She doesn’t even know where to start. “I don’t know that anyone could imagine anyone like Hannibal, Murdock and Face! But I like them all, a lot. They seem like good boys.”

Scooter laughs out loud at that, having to scramble a little to prevent his cake falling to the floor. “Don’t know many people who could get away with calling Colonel John ‘Hannibal’ Smith a ‘boy’!” he explains, laughter easing to giggles.

She laughs along with him, though in her eyes the colonel really is still just a boy. But from Scooter’s point of view he is his commanding officer, although they seem to place a little less emphasis on rank than she had expected. There is no doubt that Hannibal is in charge, though, and Face is his second, even though Murdock technically outranks the Lieutenant. “I’ve missed this,” she says, her laughter fading a little. “It’s good having you home.”

“Good to be home, Mama.” Scooter leans closer to kiss her cheek quickly, before turning his attention back to his dessert. She’ll have to make him a whole cake to take back to base with him, just like she’ll have to make Hannibal a batch of those dark chocolate brownies he couldn’t get enough of. She isn’t quite sure what Murdock’s favourite is, as the pilot just seems to love anything covered in chocolate, while Face has less of a sweet tooth than his teammates – understandable, she thinks, given the shape he’s in – although he seemed to go into raptures over her cheese biscuits yesterday. More of a savoury tooth, she thinks.

After hearing Face and Hannibal talk the other night, she’s made a conscious effort with Face, trying not to make him uncomfortable. The colonel hit the nail on the head, she realises – she’s been mothering them all, and she doesn’t think there should be anything wrong with that. She lets Hannibal sit quietly with a book, feeding him brownies, taking charge of the three younger men in order to give him a break. Murdock just loves her attention, and loves her hugs – sometimes she can hardly turn around without finding a pair of skinny arms wrapping around her waist. And she loves it all – she hadn’t realised just how much she missed having people to take care of, someone to fuss over. 

She hasn’t changed much with Face, just enough so she doesn’t surprise him. She doesn’t see anything wrong with remembering he takes skimmed milk and no sugar in his coffee, certainly doesn’t feel bad about pulling him into a hug when the occasion calls for it – though she’s been careful to make eye contact first, letting him know what she has planned – but she has backed right off him when she asks questions of the team, trying to find out a little more about these fascinating men.

Murdock has happily told her tale after tale of his childhood in Texas, growing up on his Grandparents’ ranch. She once made the mistake of asking what he was doing immediately before joining Hannibal’s team, knowing only that he had joined at the same time as her Scooter, but the captain had shut down a little, withdrawing into himself. Face and Scooter had coaxed him back to life, both obviously used to such moments, while Hannibal filled the gap in conversation by sharing some of his own childhood in the Midwest. Scooter entertains his teammates with stories from the ‘hood, some of them a little different than she remembers, but she stays silent, listening, taking everything in. 

Face and Hannibal always sit close together during these conversations, whether they take place in a diner or the park or her living room, the colonel’s hand sometimes straying onto his boy’s knee for a moment before they pull apart a little. She wants to tell them to just relax, that she doesn’t mind in the slightest, but they haven’t told her and she has to respect that. They are still getting to know her, after all. 

“I was thinking,” she starts, waiting until Scooter turns back to her. “Maybe tomorrow night, you, me and Murdock should go catch a show? I’m sure there’s something on that will keep the three of us entertained. Maybe eat out, too. That pizza place you love?”

“Sounds good, Mama. Just us three?” 

“Think maybe Hannibal could use a break from being the responsible adult.” She keeps her voice casual, though she can see the wheels turning in her son’s clever mind. “Thought maybe he and Face could have a quiet night in.”

“Mama, you’re amazin’.”Scooter shakes his head slowly, a small smile hovering on his lips. “How…?”

“I’m your Mother, Bosco. I’m not blind.”

Leaning forward, her son rests his now-empty plate on the coffee table before pulling her into his strong arms, burying his face in her shoulder like he used to do when he was a little boy. “Love you, Mama. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know, baby.” She kisses his hair where it tickles her chin, wondering when he will ever get rid of his faintly ridiculous Mohawk. “And you know I love you too. More than anything.”

She doesn’t ask why no one told her, because it doesn’t matter. Sitting there, holding her not-so-little boy in her arms, nothing really matters except just having him there. She thinks she really is the luckiest woman in the world.

* * * * *

It’s raining so hard that none of them feel like venturing out of the house, and so a day of games is declared by Murdock, enthusiastically seconded by her Scooter, much to her amusement. Of course she has none of the computer games they apparently usually play, but she has a stash of board games from over the years; Scooter finds her old scrabble set and the team settle in for a marathon session. She plays along for a while but quickly finds herself outmatched, more than a little surprised at some of the words the men conjure up – anyone who thought Army men were stupid should’ve been sat in her living room that afternoon, watching them all.

Deciding she is far better off observing, she takes charge of the dictionary, assuming the role of umpire as she flits in and out between the living room and kitchen, taking the opportunity to bake some of the boys’ favourites before they head back to base tomorrow. It’s come too quickly, this last day, but she’s glad they are spending it all together, and she tries not to think about her son’s next deployment – Iraq, probably, he’d said last night at dinner, but she’d hushed him quickly. There will be time enough for details like that. Not today, she thinks.

Not last night either. As she’d suggested, they had indeed found a show that the three of them could enjoy – Disney on Ice, as it turned out, and for all Scooter’s grumbles she knew he had enjoyed it every bit as much as the child-like pilot, who had spent the rest of the evening singing the songs at the top of his voice. Just because she could, and just because she loved seeing her son all embarrassed, she joined in as much as possible. Everyone loves Disney, right?

It had been funny watching Scooter trying to decide whether or not to shout at his friend and risk his Mother’s wrath, but when they reached the restaurant she had managed to calm Murdock down with the promise of the best pizza ever.

“You’re gonna love this, man,” Scooter had enthused. “Trust me, you ain’t never had a pizza like this in your life!”

“I don’t know, Bosco. I’ve had a lot of pizza in my life.” Murdock had struck a thoughtful pose, chin in hand, baseball cap slightly askew. “Many, many forms of pizza. In many different countries.” She had just smiled, waiting until the Chicago pizza pie had arrived at their table.

After a long moment in which the pilot had clearly been struck dumb, while Scooter had immediately helped himself to an enormous slice, she had asked, “What do you think then, baby?” The pilot’s wild eyes had been as round as saucers, and he’d opened and closed his mouth a few times as he twisted his head side to side, observing the pizza from all angles. “Murdock?”

“Oh. My. Gosh.” At that, Scooter had seemed to notice his friend’s shock. Whether or not Murdock was putting it on just for show, she wasn’t entirely sure. But her son had put his pizza down before nudging his friend with surprising gentleness, though his words were tougher.

“’S just pizza, crazy, c’mon.”

“But… But…” Another little nudge from her son and Murdock had seemed to snap back into life, bouncing in his seat a little and waving his hands in the air. “It’s like the best pizza ever! It’s all inside out and upside down, and it’s like it isn’t really pizza but it is pizza at the same time - ”

Catching one of the pilot’s hands as it swung in front of her face, she couldn’t help but laugh as she had suggested, “Maybe you better eat the pizza before it gets cold?” 

“Yes, Mama!” the men had chorused in unison, both seeming to calm at her words and tucking into their food with gusto. For a moment she had just sat, watching the pair of them side by side, her son and his crazy friend, both of them clearly so close. And she had wondered…

“Mama? Need a dictionary moment!” Scooter’s voice breaks into her thoughts, and she almost dreads to think what strange word Murdock has laid down this time. But, to her surprise, it’s Hannibal’s word that her son wants checking.

“I don’t know, big guy.” Face leans back into the sofa, both hands behind his head, flexing his own impressive arms and chest as he sits close by Hannibal’s side. “I think that’s legit.”

“Our colonel is most certainly a sesquipedalianist,” Murdock chirps up from his seat cross-legged on the floor as she searches through her battered dictionary for yet another word she’s never heard of.

“A what?” Face again, confused now.

Hannibal speaks up now as she continues to search, gesturing with his unlit cigar. He always seems to be either waving one around or chewing thoughtfully on the end of it, always making her smile a little. “A person who tends to use sesquipedalian words, kid. And I don’t, not all the time at least. But this is scrabble. And I like to win.”

“Not helpful, Boss!” But then all eyes are on her as she finally tracks down the word, and Face is right, it is indeed legitimate.

“Empanopoly,” she pronounces it slowly and carefully. “To clothe in full armour.” 

Scooter thumps his fist on the table in obvious frustration, but with one warning look from her he soon settles again, Face watching him curiously. “Sorry, Mama,” he murmurs a little sheepishly, before turning to his CO. “Typical, Hannibal! Anything to do with war…” And they are off again, into another debate punctuated with wild gestures and casual touches which speak to her of so many hours spent comfortably in each other’s company. 

Pausing to check they all have drinks and snacks, with a warm smile she slips away back into the kitchen. She drops an easy kiss on Scooter’s forehead as she passes, not missing the way Face’s eyes track her movements, as she goes to bake and think until she is called on to check the dictionary once more. 

Face and Hannibal had seemed surprised at first when she told them the plans for last night, but neither had complained at all. She hadn’t missed the pleased little look Face had thrown at his colonel as she had turned to get her coat, nor the entirely unsubtle way in which Scooter had elbowed them both in the ribs as they left. She had made sure they knew about the casserole she had in the oven for them, and told them they would all be back by ten. 

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!” Murdock had called back as the door shut, and then they were off and gone. By the time they returned, at ten o’clock on the dot, her house was in darkness, the kitchen spotless, a half empty bottle of wine and two glasses abandoned in the living room, and the guest room door firmly closed to the world.

That morning, when she asked innocently how their night had been, the matching smiles that crossed both faces as two sets of blue eyes locked said everything she could have wanted to know.   
Part Eight

“Can I help with anything?”

She tries not to let her surprise show in her face as she turns from the oven to see Face leaning in the kitchen doorway, his tall frame a study in forced casualness. “It’s all under control, thank you, sweetie. But the kettle just boiled – I was about to make myself a cup of tea if you want - ”

“I got it.” Before she can say another word he moves quickly to start pulling out two mugs, dropping a tea bag into one and spooning instant coffee into the other. The fact that he is here at all is a surprise. While he certainly hasn’t been avoiding her company, he hasn’t sought her out the way Murdock has, the playful pilot frequently bounding into the kitchen when she’s been away from the men for a time. But now, here he is, all lean, handsome muscle, studiously not making eye contact as he makes drinks for them both.

“Thank you, Face,” she says with a smile, turning her attention back to the cheese biscuits baking in the oven. Another five minutes, she thinks, sliding the door closed quickly. “How’s the game going?”

A scream from the living room makes them each pause in their actions, waiting until Murdock shouts, “We’re fine!” before they start breathing again.

Face chuckles, an easy, comfortable sound that makes her smile too. “The game is getting a little competitive.”

“It wasn’t competitive before?” She takes the mug of tea he offers, and they move over to sit opposite each other at the kitchen table. She still half expects him to bolt back to his team – it’s a little like taming a wild cat.

“Believe me, no one can do competitive like those three. Hannibal absolutely can’t stand losing, and once you get Murdock and BA going…” He rolls his eyes, and she knows exactly what he means.

“Scooter never was much good at getting beaten,” she tells him. “Half the fights he used to get into at school were just because someone said they were better than him at something, usually something silly and pointless. The times I used to get dragged into the principal’s office only to hear he hit someone over a game of marbles!”

A flash of that bright white smile from Face, and she can almost see him start to shift into what she sees as his ‘con’ mode. All charm and politeness. She can believe all the stories her son has told her about the things he has managed to get for his team – with that smile and that golden way with words he has, people would give him anything and be happy to do it. “I can’t imagine he made that mistake too many times, not with your guidance!”

“Never the same thing twice, I’ll give you that much!” She sips from her tea slowly; Face has remembered she takes two sweeteners. “He was a good boy, really. Quick temper, though. I’m sure he’d admit as much himself.”

That flashy smile fades a little to something more gentle, and she watches as the young man in front of her drops his gaze, studying his own mug as he rolls it between his hands on the table. Face’s voice is almost a whisper when he speaks again, saying, “He’s really lucky to have you.”

How on earth to respond to that, she thinks. The rain drums against the kitchen window, filling the silence until eventually she decides to keep things as simple as she can. “Thank you, Face. I’m lucky to have him.”

“Watching you two together… It’s been…” One hand comes up to brush through those slightly unruly curls, and after a moment bright blue eyes lift to meet hers. “It’s been great seeing you together. He’s always telling us how great a Mother you are, and… Well, thank you for having us, and thank you for looking after us, and - ”

“Face,” she soothes, daring to stretch across and take his hand in hers. 

He takes a deep breath and says, “I never had a Mom, or a Dad. I don’t think he would’ve told you that.” She can hardly admit that she overheard his conversation with Hannibal, so she simply shakes her head, waiting for him to continue. “I grew up in the Catholic care system, so the whole ‘family’ thing is a little alien for me.” He’s clearly more than a little uncomfortable talking about this, but he covers it with a nervous little laugh.

“Must’ve been hard,” she breathes, not wanting to break the spell.

He shrugs, still not shaking off her hand. “It was what it was. Not anywhere near as bad as the horror stories you hear about, but not… Y’know…”

“Not a family. Not a Mama of your own.” She really just wants to sweep him into her arms, this man who has clearly been through so much in his young life. But she restricts herself to squeezing his hand tightly, offering him a soft smile and some space as she gets up from the table. Those biscuits will be done by now. “You got a family now, Face, you know that right? You and Hannibal and Murdock and that crazy son of mine.”

“Yeah, I know.” Her back is to the room as she carefully lifts the baking trays from the oven, but she can still hear the smile in Face’s voice. “Hannibal’s been family for a long time.”

Figuring why the hell not, she dares to ask, “How long you two been together?”

A little choked gasp from behind her before Face manages to cover it. “We’ve, ah, we’ve been working together for three years now.”

“Face, sweetheart, I see how you are with each other, the way you look at him. And it doesn’t bother me at all.” She slides one tray of biscuits onto a cooling rack; the second tray she slides straight onto a plate and carries back to the table with her. “Careful, they’ll burn your tongue,” she warns. 

Face is watching her with a carefully blank expression, but those incredibly blue eyes show his confusion. After a minute he shakes his head slowly, catching his lower lip between his teeth. He looks incredibly young in that moment, and she finds herself thinking ’what-if’ – what if he had had a different childhood, would he still be the man he is now? “We’ve been together for nearly that whole time,” he says slowly, and she can hear the love and awe in his voice. “He’s my life.”

“I’m glad you have each other,” she tells him honestly. “I’m glad you all found each other, in fact, especially my Scooter.” 

“Your ‘Scooter’ is a great man,” Face seems glad for the change of subject, and still she can’t believe he is talking this easily with her; time alone with Hannibal must have helped put him at ease. “Did he ever tell you he saved my life the first time he met me?” At her nod he continues, “You must be very proud of him.” 

“I am so very, very proud of my son.” And before the young man can get pulled back into some sadness about his own lack of proud parental figures, she pushes the plate of cooling biscuits towards him and tells him firmly, “And now I’ve got three more sons to be proud of.”

Cheese biscuit already halfway to his mouth, Face freezes for what seems to be minutes. Behind him, in the doorway, she suddenly spies the shadowy figure of Hannibal Smith, checking on his boy, but the colonel raises a finger to his lips. The way this team takes care of each other never ceases to amaze her. Dropping her gaze back to the young lieutenant, she watches as he swallows hard, not meeting her gaze, still frozen in place.

Draining the last of her tea, she stands slowly, placing the mug carefully back on the table before edging her way around to stand behind him. She has no desire to make him cry, but she can see her words have touched him deeply, and she dares to squeeze his shoulder tightly, pressing a firm kiss into those caramel curls of his. He lifts his free hand and places it over her own, long, elegant fingers holding on for a second.

“Eat those biscuits up, now,” she tells him softly, letting go of him after one last squeeze. “I’m gonna go check on those other boys. It’s all gone a little too quiet in there for my liking.”

As she passes Hannibal, the colonel catches her arm, pulling her to a stop. Without speaking he offers her a smile and a nod, and in return she stretches up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. And at that moment the silence is broken by a loud cry of “Hannibal! He’s cheatin’!” from Murdock, closely followed by “You the one cheatin’, crazy!” from her son, and she rolls her eyes as they both turn to head back into the living room, and the ongoing scrabble war.

* * * * *

The last evening passes much as the day did, with games and laughter and food and drink, and above all good company. As the night draws in, she sits between her Scooter and Face, Hannibal opposite them in the chair chewing a cigar, Murdock still cross-legged on the floor, and she can’t believe that this time tomorrow they will be gone. Her house will be so quiet without them all.

As if he senses her thoughts, Scooter wraps one heavy, muscled arm around her shoulders and pulls her close into his side, even as he continues laughing with Murdock about some trick they had pulled back on base. She lets her son hold her securely as the team’s laughter carries them through into the early hours of the morning.

Hannibal has planned for them to be gone before lunchtime the next day. It’s a long drive back for them after all, and she can only sympathise with him about his ‘babysitting’ all the way back to their base. As his team start to pack up their van, she manages to catch him alone for a moment, puffing on one of his ever-present cigars outside her kitchen door.

“We’ll leave you in peace soon, Mama.” He smiles down at her as she comes to his side. She still isn’t used to just how very tall he is, this imposing figure of a Colonel. “You’ll be glad to have your house back, I’m sure!”

“Gonna be awful quiet,” she admits, watches as Hannibal nods in agreement. “It’s been so good having you all to stay, getting to know you a little at last. Seeing Scooter so happy with you all.”

She knows even after just one week that the colonel, much like her son, doesn’t speak much unless there is something important to be said, so she is a little taken aback when he stubs out his cigar before turning to face her squarely. Those pale blue-grey eyes stare deeply into hers. “I’ll look after him, Mama. I’ll bring him home to you again soon.”

As close to a promise as he can make; she knows the risks of what they all do, and her heart clenches a little to think of it. “Look after them all, Colonel, and look after yourself too.” She pulls him into a hug, tucking her head under his chin as he wraps his arms around her in return. “And you all come home to me here whenever you want.”

Excited shrieks from the kitchen break them apart – it’s Murdock, of course, all hyped up about their road-trip, and without another word to each other they head straight inside to deal with whatever he has found now. She’ll miss Hannibal’s calm presence, the way nothing his boys do ever seems to surprise him, and she’s more glad of that that ever when they get inside to find the pilot wearing all his clothes inside out, a pair of shorts on his head.

Far too many hours later – and far too few at the same time – the boys are all packed up and ready to head out. They all gather by that gleaming black van, Murdock still far too excited although thankfully wearing his clothes correctly now. Face and Scooter hover near each other, both looking a little awkward now the time to leave is upon them.

She isn’t having any of that – these are all her boys now, there shouldn’t be any awkwardness between them – so she reaches out to catch Murdock by one arm as he bounds past, pulling Face closer with her free arm until she holds them both in front of her, side by side.

Their colonel watches silently from the other side of the van as she kisses each of them firmly on the cheek, Murdock giggling wildly, Face blushing so sweetly that her heart aches a little. Just boys, still, the pair of them, off to fight for their country once more.

“You take care now,” she tells them firmly, holding her emotions in check. “You hear me? You’re all my family now, and I don’t want to hear any nonsense about you not being safe. Look after each other.” She wishes she could think of something more profound to say to them, but they both nod solemnly, listening to her.

Murdock wraps his wiry arms around her, his wild eyes more serious than she has seen them all week. “We’ll be safe, Mama, promise.” Before she can do much more than close her arms around his skinny body in return, he is off and away, bouncing and hyperactive once more, a huge grin on his face as he turns to include Scooter and Hannibal in his next statement. “Besides, these guys are always safe when I’m flyin’!”

“You crazy fool! Told you there ain’t no way I’m gettin’ on a plane with you…” Scooter, of course, and she is vaguely aware of the team’s pilot dancing around just out of reach of her son’s powerful arms, though she keeps her focus on Face, still stood in front of her.

That blush still on his cheeks, the handsome Lieutenant offers her a small smile, more genuine than those bright white grins he flashes around so easily. “Thank you,” he says softly, and they move at the same time to meet in a tight embrace. He isn’t quite as tall as Hannibal, but she still has to stretch up to kiss him one more time, and she thrills to hear him whisper in her ear, “Thank you, Mama.”

That’s the first time he has said the word to her all week, always managing to avoid using it, jokingly using ‘Mrs B’ where he can’t stay silent, and she smiles widely at him as they separate, cupping his stubbly cheek briefly – why don’t these young men ever shave properly? “Remember what I said, Templeton. You’re all my boys now, okay?”

With one last smile and a nod, he ducks away from her, climbing into the van at the same time as Murdock pulls open his own door, still yammering away about how much fun they’re all going to have on the road back. She meets Hannibal’s gaze briefly before the colonel too climbs in, and he rolls his eyes at her before offering her a final salute. She nods back, smiling, appreciating the time he is giving her with her son, and then she turns to her Scooter, stood waiting with a smile of his own.

“You’re incredible, Mama, you know that?” He holds out one hand to her and she takes it, squeezing tight, feeling the tears burn behind her eyes finally. She fights them back – she’ll send them off with a smile. 

For a long moment they just stand there, mother and son, hand in hand, then she tugs him closer, hugging him to her, her little boy. “You’re still my baby, Scooter,” she murmurs into his broad chest. “They’re all good boys; you got a good team there, you were right. But you’ll always be my baby boy.”

“Love you, Mama.” She can feel his deep voice vibrate through her, and squeezes him as tight as she can, until he yelps a little. She smiles, knowing he is putting it on – if he squeezed her as tight as he could, he would crush her, and for some reason that makes her incredibly proud. He’ll be safe out there, she knows it, especially with those three men by his side.

As much as she wants to keep him there, they each of them have lives they need to get back to, and she reaches up to seize his head between her tiny hands, pulling him down until she can press kiss after kiss onto his face. “I love you so much, Bosco,” she tells him. “And I’m so very proud of you. Your father would be too, I know it.” His stoic demeanour crumbles a little at that, and she didn’t mean for that to happen, so she quickly steps back, gesturing towards his van, his baby. “Now, get goin’, son. Drive safe and watch out for the idiots on the roads, you hear me?”

Scooter rolls his eyes at her, a smile back on his face. “Yes, Mama. I’ll call when we get back, okay?” And with one last kiss to her forehead, one last squeeze from his strong arms, he climbs up into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

She steps back up onto her front step to watch as they drive away, Murdock hanging out the side window and singing opera at the top of his lungs. Laughing to herself, she waves until they are out of sight, picturing her son already growling at the pilot, Face probably singing along or encouraging his friend in some way, and poor Hannibal already counting down the hours until they are out of the van once more.

Closing the front door, she sighs a little. Already the house feels smaller and so much quieter without them. She moves through the rooms, picking up an empty cup, moving the scrabble set off the table, turning on the kettle to make tea. Finding the pair of shorts Murdock had been wearing as a hat abandoned in the fridge when she reaches in for milk, making her smile once again. They are a fascinating group of men, but one week living with them has been enough for now, and she has work in a couple of hours, then a shift at the soup kitchen that evening. Life goes on, and somehow she thinks it won’t be too long before her son and his wonderful, crazy, brilliant team come to visit her once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Panda77777 at ATeam-Prompts:
> 
> What happened when B.A.’s mum first meet the team especially Face. Maybe B.A. invites them for the holidays or she visits them when they first become a unit. Would like to see how Face would react to her because of his childhood, maybe confused how she treats him, wary because nobody’s every mothered him before and women only want one thing from him. How she finally wins him round I will leave that to the writer. Can be her POV about him and the rest of the team or anything I don't mind. I can imagine Murdock would be driving B.A. crazy with excitement and Hannibal happy to have another adult around.


End file.
